Page 82 of Red

“That’s right.” He nodded, moving his stare to the bookshelves behind her. He could feel the pain he was causing, but he couldn’t stop it. She wouldn’t go if she knew what this was doing to him. If she could sense the enormity of his concern for her, the intensity of his want for her, she would stay. And it was better for her to be away from him.

“There will be reparations set up for you, of course.” Erik stopped to clear his throat, a hitch in his voice wouldn’t convey the finality he was trying to get across.

“Of course.” She slammed her laptop closed and jerked it from the power cord. “And the other girls? What about them?”

“You don’t need to concern yourself with all that.” He lifted his chin. “You should get your coat and your laptop bag. Ian will be ready to drive you soon.”

“That’s it? That’s all you have to say to me?” she called to him when he turned his back on her.

His hands fisted, but he did not turn around. To see the tears in her eyes, or to so much as sense them might break him, and he was doing the right thing this time. He was putting her needs, her future ahead of what he wanted. Because if he did what he wanted, he’d have her in his arms. He’d lift her off her feet and carry her to bed and love her until all the pain, all the grief was nothing but a faded memory.

“There’s nothing left to say, Red. I needed you, and now I don’t.” The last sound he heard before the door closed behind him was her sharp intake of breath. The bubble of pain he’d been easing himself around exploded, but he didn’t allow himself to be ruled by it.

“Erik, I don’t think—” Ian protested, but it was too late.

“Take her to Grams. I don’t want her here anymore, Ian. Take her.” Erik stalked into his office and slammed the door behind him. Leaning back against the wood, he closed his eyes, letting the rumbling sensation of anguish roll through his body. He deserved it. He’d caused enough, and now it visited him.

He’d taken from everyone in order to get what he wanted.

Now, he ripped out his own heart in order to give some of her back to herself.

She’d be okay in a few weeks, he told himself.

But he would never heal from the hole he’d just punctured in his own soul.

And he deserved that, too.

Chapter 31

“You have to eat something.” Grams pushed the plate of pizza closer to Melinda.

“I did, Grams. I had some salad.” Melinda unscrewed the cap from her soda and took a sip.

“When?” Grams pushed.

Melinda concentrated on getting the cap back on the bottle. Even small things seemed to need her full concentration.

“This afternoon,” Melinda finally answered when she noticed Grams glaring at her over her reading glasses.

“Melinda.” Grams leaned forward and grabbed her hand. “You can’t lock yourself away and wallow.”

“I’m not wallowing. I’m working.” Melinda pointed at the stack of papers beside the pizza box. “I’ve been editing all day. My eyes are tired. I’m tired.” She forced a smile.

It had been two weeks since she’d been dropped off in front of Grams’ house with a few suitcases at her feet. Ian had tried to help her up the walkway, but she’d told him to leave it. Every day she woke up thinking she’d feel better than the day before. Time was supposed to heal everything, right?

Except, every morning, she woke up to the memory of her father dying and then Erik’s words would hit her in the chest, knocking the wind from her. He didn’t need her or want her. It wasn’t fun anymore.

“Okay, well, I’ll put the pizza in the fridge, then. Eat something before you go to bed tonight, promise me,” Grams said in her typical grandmother voice.

“I promise,” Melinda said. “Did the plumber come by yet about the bathroom sink?”

“Yes. All fixed.” Grams grinned and shoved the pizza box into the fridge. “You know you didn’t have to run off and find an apartment so fast. You could have stayed home longer.”

“I know, but I needed to get to work, back to my life, you know?” Melinda hoped Grams could understand because she couldn’t.

Erik had tossed her out. It should have been easy to grasp, but she found herself lying in the dark at night going over conversations in her head. She’d been so fierce at the beginning, fighting off any inkling of a feeling toward him. But he’d maneuvered himself right beneath her defenses, when he wasn’t barreling through them with his intolerable domination.

“I know.” Grams sighed. “Have you talked with him?”

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